[Immortal Technique] My rhymes are harder to digest for money Than coke balloons in a Colombian broad's tummy You f**ing dummy, I'm like a f**ing firing squad You get a empty feeling like you lying to God Lucifer status, you goin' crazy like crack addicts Acid tabs, mad hatters and talking jack rabbits Pack an automatic, you don't know me money I'll smack the sh** out you like you owe me money
Immortal Technique, body strapped up with plastique Leave a crater like a meteor landed in the street My presence, еven backed with an essence stays hard Like f**ing on a Native American graveyard My peoples spirit still stands defiant Until American falls and they stand in triumph Lyrical Nephilim giant, Look me up in the bible The son of the son, Genesis 6 Homicidal